


Mud

by dendraica



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Astrid isn’t perfect and is tired of trying to be, F/M, Tuffstrid fluff, chickens can be very stubborn, friendly bantering and bonding, httyd RarePair bingo challenge, implied hiccstrid breakup, let the gang swear, the riders are actually friends and act like it (possible tw for the writers of the show), ”covered in mud”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendraica/pseuds/dendraica
Summary: A sudden storm catches the Edge by surprise, but Tuff is unluckier than most. Astrid spends some time helping him clean up and makes a decision.
Relationships: Astrid Hofferson & Hiccup Haddock, Astrid Hofferson & Tuffnut Thorston, Astrid Hofferson/Tuffnut Thorston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: HTTYD RarePair Bingo





	Mud

The sky had been threatening to spill all day, all gray clouds offset by deep threatening purples. Nobody could predict when it would happen, but when it did, the clouds seemed to crack open like an egg, coating the Edge in a sudden shower of hailstones, rain, wild gusts of wind and crackling peals of thunder.

It was a truly impressive act of Thor, Astrid thought, drinking from her mug under the Clubhouse roof she had mended and patched herself before the rain season came. Not a drop so far. She was feeling a little smug, especially because Hiccup had waved away all her reminders to fix his own roof in a timely manner and was now grumpily carrying in an armload of drenched blueprints, notebooks and maps to dry out in front of the fire.

Toothless sneezed as he followed after, ears flat and drenched to his skin. More wet scrolls were sticking out of the saddle bags and Astrid came over to help unload them and spread them out. 

“No, no, I got this,” Hiccup sighed. “I brought it on myself, you were right. I should have fixed the roof.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Astrid said.

“You didn’t have to. I can tell you’re dying to say ‘I told you so’ because that’s the expression you always make when you’re about to.” Hiccup’s tone was playful but also not, and Astrid tried her best to navigate the tricky waters of what he really meant to say.

 _Passive-aggressiveness,_ Ruff had supplied once, when both of them were in their cups and Astrid had found herself venting. It was nice to have a word to it, but what an oddly perfect word for every situation with Hiccup she seemed to find herself in lately.

Right now he either wanted her to reassure him and apologize, or go back to her warm drink and leave him alone. Neither option seemed ideal, but she was saved from the guesswork by a frustrated groan from Snotlout who tossed some dry wood and a pile of bundled kindling out of his cloak onto the floor.

Lout was wet, but a few hours worth of firewood had been rescued thanks to his quick thinking and the sacrifice of his cloak. Grumbling, he started stacking it into a pile. Astrid gladly went to help with that chore instead, and Hiccup huffed. He’d wanted her to choose the first option apparently, but it was no good to backtrack now - no matter what she did, it would become an argument later that everyone would pretend they hadn’t heard. She didn’t engage, playing dumb to his irritated glances and once the wood was stacked, she checked on the stew.

He was having trouble keeping one of the maps from rolling back up instead of laying flat. Astrid knew better than to suggest getting small stones from the potted flowers outside to weigh down the corners. It would be insulting somehow.

“What did you make for dinner?” Hiccup asked, just giving up and holding down the corners with his hands. He was apparently going to stay like that for a while. 

Astrid sighed inwardly. “Yak stew.” Hiccup didn’t acknowledge the answer or look up at her, seemingly deep in thought and scowling.

“I’m tired of yak. When can we have boar or venison again?” Snotlout butted in and really, honestly, bless him. Astrid hadn’t wanted to hear Hiccup’s attempts to dodge out of eating any. He never seemed to be hungry on days when it was her turn to cook.

“When the rains let up, we can go hunting. But yak meat is what we have the most of.”

“Who first decided to eat a yak anyway?” Ruff asked, walking in with Fishlegs. “They’re like giant adorable sheepdogs with horns. That you can practice braiding on. They just stand there and let you. What ‘honorable viking’ decided to ‘hunt’ that?”

“Well, sometimes during famines when there’s not a lot of food to hunt -“ Fishlegs started, until Ruffnut gave him a withering look. “Oh you weren’t really asking, never mind.”

He was carrying a Maces and Talons board and the rule book. It had become necessary to have the rule book present; while playing, the twins liked to bend and tweak the boundaries of every single one. Astrid had to admit, it was thrilling to watch. Hiccup might even forget his bad mood and have a good time.

The only one missing now was Tuff.

When dinner was ready, and had been roasted thoroughly as well as stewed, Tuff had still not shown up.

Astrid left it up to the others to serve themselves and carried a covered bowl for Tuff toward his hut. It wasn’t like him to be late for dinner unless he was dramatically late. She relaxed when she saw a candle on in his window and the chimney putting out smoke.

“Hey, Tuff. Get attacked by a wolf or something?” Astrid asked automatically when he opened the door. She’d said it carelessly, an inside joke between all of them, but Tuff’s appearance took her aback.

He was a wall of mud with eyes and stiffening braids. He currently held a peeping ball of damp fluff in a towel draped over his hand - apparently trying to dry off the chicks before seeing to himself.

The storm had caught everyone at least a little off guard but … “Why are you covered in mud?” Astrid asked.

If Tuff could have looked any angrier, the mud surely would have baked and fallen off him in crisp pieces.

“Because that … that absolute waste of feathers-“ he started, absolutely fuming.

“Peep,” the chick helpfully interrupted.

“Excuse me - because your _father_ ,” Tuff said instead to the chick, voice dripping with scorn. “Would not come inside when he was directed to before the storm hit, oh no - _Fustercluck_ knows best! Fustercluck thinks a rickety old toolshed is the best place to keep his chicks safe during a storm like this! And so he led me on a merry f-“

“Peep.”

“-cking chase around in the mud with half of you guys _unhelpfully_ following him, until I finally grabbed him so you would follow us all inside.” Tuff sighed dramatically and Astrid shook her head, grinning. He was more a mother hen than Chicken. It was endearing.

“Imprinting’s a fine concept and all, really,” Tuff said, like he was letting her in on a secret. “Less fine when there’s a complete doorknob standing there on hatching day. Sorry, I won’t be hanging with you guys tonight, A. I gotta get them dried off so they don’t catch colds. I can’t come to dinner looking like this anyway.”

“So did you let your dumbass rooster inside or did you throw him back out to stay in his shed?”

“Oh I wanted to, believe me.” Tuff made a face and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. There, on a perch made for two, Fustercluck and Chicken were preening each other’s feathers and burbling lovingly. “She wouldn’t have it.”

And he wasn’t anywhere near that heartless. Astrid knew that better than he seemed to himself. She came in, set the bowl on the table and picked up a towel. “Tell you what. After we dry off the chicks, I’ll help you get all this mud off you.”

“Oh. Okay, thanks,” Tuff said, offering her a smile and a different wet chick.

They got them clean and fluffed up and Chicken accepted them into her nest for the night, preening them the rest of the way dry. Tuff closed them in and noticed the bowl on the table. “Could I have some of your soup if you aren’t going to eat it? It’s going to get cold.”

Astrid smiled. “It’s yours, I brought it for you. In case you were sick or reading or decided to paint a wall.”

“You did?” Tuff didn’t give her time to take the offer back, picking the bowl up and draining it. He loved it when people cooked for him - Ruff had told her that.

She set a pot of water on his stove to heat up and looked for towels while he shed all but his leggings. He was trying to tie his hair back and out of the way but his braids were heavy and caked.

Astrid took over, making him sit in a chair and lean his hair back into a basin of clean warm water. Another pot of water was set to warm up on the fire. Poor Tuff would need more - probably most of it for his hair.

He sighed blissfully as the first soak drew the worst of the dirt and mud away, turning the basin water immediately opaque. “It feels like the fifty pound Night-terror napping on my head just woke up and flew away.”

“Yeah, I bet. This is mostly clay. You guys should put a potters wheel in your hut.”

“I’m not going to make anything resembling a normal piece of crockery,” he vowed.

“That’s alright. I’m sure Ruff won’t be making anything resembling a non-offensive piece of crockery,” Astrid said, and Tuff laughed.

He helped her change out the water to do his hair once more until it was closer to its normal golden color. A swim in the morning would help get the rest of it clear.

Astrid dabbed a towel into hot water and gently ran it over the patches of mud on his skin that had caked dry. When it was softened, she wiped the dirt away just as gently. Tuff followed her motions, getting his chest and arms and legs while she got his back.

Tuff sighed softly when they were finished, his exhaustion and relief tangible. “Thanks, A,” he said. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“No, but it’s fine. I’m sure there’s plenty of yak stew left over,” she said wryly.

“Stew would be cold by now. Here.” He got up, and headed to his pantry. He gifted her with a plate of walnut cookies, apple and apricot slices, goat cheese, bread, venison jerky, and a few hard boiled eggs.

All put together, it looked like a feast for some warrior elf maiden traveling Midgard. Astrid smiled and cleaned her plate of everything that had been offered, eating slowly while Tuff - clean and in much better spirits - laughingly recounted his madcap adventure of chasing a very stubborn rooster all across a muddy, slippery, hole-filled yard. Barf and Belch had dug a man-sized pit earlier to hide their favorite bone and it had filled up quickly with a foamy slurry of mud and rainwater. Tuff had apparently forgotten this and went down with a splat.

Astrid couldn’t stop laughing - not at his story but at the way he told it. “I wish I could have seen that! You probably looked like some ravenous troll clawing its way out of Niflheim - no wonder the chickens freaked out and ran away! I would have run too, if you’d just popped out of the ground! And with all that lightning and thunder -“

“ _You_ would have run from a troll? _You_?” Tuff scoffed. “That poor thing would have been tied to a chair in an hour, begging you to call his mother to come pick him up.”

She cackled and rubbed at her cheeks, which were seriously aching by now. Astrid hadn’t laughed this hard in a while. It was definitely good for her.

They said their good nights a little while after Ruff came back to the hut, not drunk but definitely not sober. “You guys missed a really dumb boring match in which everyone followed the same dumb boring rules.” She stared at her brother, still casually shirtless, only wearing his leggings. “And apparently you guys played strip-poker instead. And my brother … lost? Won? Who knows. Not asking ‘cause I’m gonna forget everything in the morning anyway!” Ruffnut stomped cheerfully up to the loft to pass out across her own bed.

Tuff still had his face in his hands by the time her snores drifted down and Astrid was beet red, snickering helplessly.

“On that note, we should probably get to bed too,” she finally managed, wiping her eyes.

Tuff nodded, getting up. “Yeah, I’ll walk you to the door. Thanks for everything. This was a good night.” He grinned at her, soft and hopeful and Astrid leaned in without thinking, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

She pulled back and they stared at each other, neither one wanting to blink first.

“Goodnight,” Astrid managed to squeak out finally, because her mom had told her that shield maidens never started what they couldn’t finish. “See you tomorrow?”

Tuff hand went up to touch where she had kissed him and then he seemed to remember himself and dropped his arm down. “Yeah. S-Swimming, right?” It was an offer to stay friends, if she thought she had made a mistake.

“Sure, I’ll dress for it. See you at dawn?”

“Yeah.” Tuff stared at her from the doorway and she really wanted to kiss him again. Astrid thought of Hiccup still trying to dry his papers and feeling slighted that she hadn’t stayed to help him. She weighed the pros and cons of tipping her boat over and refusing to navigate anymore of his confusing waters ever again.

With a spark of sudden courage, Tuffnut leaned forward and caught her lips, solving the equation.


End file.
